Page 33 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

Lindsay walks up, phone in hand, and the flash goes off.

I grit my teeth but say nothing. I should have seen this coming, honestly. They’ve been complacent, and Cameron and I have been spending more and more time together doing things other than studying.

The breeze picks up, and I shiver, wrinkling my nose. I stink.

“Now maybe you’ll think twice before messing with Cam.” Lindsay smirks and several cheer bitches around her laugh. “Thanks, babe,” she says as a burly dude in a Fox U football jersey walks up and wraps his arm around her.

A couple of other big dudes walk up beside him holding those big orange things that usually contain some sort of sports drink.

“I just want to pass math class,” I whisper as tears blur my vision.

Something warm that smells like fresh linen and deodorant wraps around my shoulders, muffling the worst of the spoiled milk smell, and I turn to see Cameron glaring daggers at the small group in front of me.

“Leave,” he says. His normally warm voice is icy.

Everyone scatters except Lindsay. She gives me one last sneer before shouldering past me back into the house.

“I’ve got an Uber coming” is all he says as he wraps one arm around my shoulder.

I’ve started shivering, and the tears that threatened to break free earlier are now falling in big fat drops.

Cameron walks us down the driveway to wait by the street, his arm never leaving my shoulder.

The Uber arrives after a few minutes and Cameron helps me into the back seat before closing the door and getting in on the other side. He scoots over until he’s next to me, his arm immediately returning to my shoulder.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry, but I don’t want my car to smell like rotten milk. It’s just a short walk back to the University from here.”

“Just drive,” Cameron says. His voice is calm, but there’s an underlying edge to it that borders on menacing. “I’ll tip a hundred.”

I want to protest that it’s too much, especially when we could walk back to the campus for free, but I’m cold and wet, and I stink. I don’t want to walk. I want to shower and crawl into bed and snuggle up with Hamwise.

The driver must decide it’s worth it for the extra cash and takes off. He might be driving a little faster than the speed limit, but that’s all the better.

We make it back to the campus in just under eight minutes. Cameron thanks the guy, who waits until his tip comes through before driving off.

“Do you have your keys?” he asks, voice soft.

I nod, still not trusting myself to speak without more tears spilling down my cheeks.

I reach into the small belt pouch I have for such occasions where a purse would just be in the way and leaving my stuff unguarded would be foolish, and pull out my dorm key.

His arm has returned to its place across my shoulders, and he leads me towards the girls’ dorm, unlocking the front door and pausing once inside.

“Where’s your room?” he asks, quietly.

The dorm is mostly silent. Weekends tend to be quieter. People go home or go out and let loose after being cooped up all week with learning and homework and projects.

I nod toward the stairs, and he takes the hint, stopping at every landing until I nod. He does the same thing walking through the hall until we reach mine and Mia’s room.

Unlocking the door, he pulls me inside and sits me down on one of the desk chairs and then kneels in front of me.

“Violet,” he says, pulling my chin up so I can meet his gaze. His warm chocolate brown eyes are full of concern and a touch of anger.

I can’t hold back anymore. I finally break down. Sobs wrack my body, and Cameron pulls me into a strong embrace. He pets my hair, not caring that it’s covered in whatever I got soaked in.

He doesn’t tell me that it will be okay. He doesn’t say anything at all. He just lets me cry.

When I finally calm down, I push myself away from him.

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